Wind softly tickles my face as I gaze upon the large golden globe reflecting on the lake.
The lake is made of a shimmering, glistening and fragile glass that Nature manipulates at her will.
She craft-fully paints an impression of Earth’s wonders upon the gentle surface.
No longer a blank canvas, round green truffles ripple in the water representing the trees I tranquilly sit under.
The center lit up by a golden pathway that is the sun stretched and narrow, a painted reflection.
Impressions that are sometimes interrupted by a fish or turtle venturing to its surface or by a family of quacking, flapping ducks swiftly gliding by.
Without travelling by motor, the eye catches a glimpse of what we typically pass by without realizing what deserves a second glance.
And as that orb begins its rest, everything visible to the eye, near or far, becomes covered by a gradient blanket made up of a crossfire of bright hues, yellows, pinks and purples blended into a cannonade of darkness and navy blue across the sky.
The sun’s setting serves as a notification that it is time to move on toward the serene hushed parts of our days, luckily we have wondrous sights to recall while we lay our heads to rest.
Sights that are mutually experienced by humanity; one and all.